


Laws of Motion

by mdseiran



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, The Hobbit RPF
Genre: Community: hobbit_kink, Humor, M/M, Not Wearing Underwear, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 08:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/834918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdseiran/pseuds/mdseiran
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It should have been an easy scene to shoot. There are no extras, no heavy props, nothing but Thranduil and Thorin playing off of each other.</p><p>But then, he wasn't counting on the set turning against him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laws of Motion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wave_of_sorrow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wave_of_sorrow/gifts), [himlayan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/himlayan/gifts).



> Written for [these](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/6124.html?thread=14008812#t14008812) [prompts](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/4307.html?thread=11347155#t11347155) at the Hobbit Kink Meme.
> 
> Martin's appearance brought to you by my two bad influences. You know who you are! (<3)

It should have been an easy scene to shoot. There are no extras, no heavy props, nothing but Thranduil and Thorin playing off of each other.

But then, he wasn't counting on the set turning against him.

Lee only has a moment to panic when his feet begin to slide over the floor as he stalks towards Thorin. The next thing he knows, he's falling backwards and landing on his rear. He lets out a little huff and waves off the crew members who rush to his aid, wincing theatrically as he gets to his feet.

Peter clears his throat. "Let's try that again, shall we?"

Lee is only too happy to return to his mark. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, searching for Thranduil. The Elven King rises readily to the forefront, and when he turns around and looks at Thorin all he feels is scorn.

He listens as Thorin speaks of betrayal and dragon fire consuming his home, and when rage engulfs him he lets its momentum carry him forward. His feet move swiftly, gracefully, and then the treacherous floor strikes again and Lee finds himself flailing as he tries to skid to a halt.

The only things preventing him from falling face first are Richard's arms, snugly wrapped around his waist. He holds on to them for a moment, finding his bearings. 

A soft cough comes from somewhere to the side, and Lee hastily takes a step back. "I'm fine," he calls out, flustered. Richard's face is blank, but there's a slight twitching at the corner of his mouth that makes Lee wince. Is he angry? 

"I'm really, really sorry. I'll be more careful next time." Richard nods, and Lee turns away. The feel of Richard's arms lingers, but he pushes it away with a frown. _Later,_ he promises himself. _I'll dwell on it later._

He's determined to avoid any mishaps this time. He waits for his cue, and when he strides towards Thorin his steps are measured, calm and regal. "Do not speak to me of dragon fire," he drawls coldly. "I know its wrath and ruin."

"No, cut." The moment shatters, and they both turn towards Peter. "It needs a bit more fervor, Lee. Thorin needs to feel intimidated for a moment, which means Thranduil has to lose his cool. Again, please."

Richard -- no, Thorin -- raises an eyebrow at him, as if to say, _Is this the best you can do, elf?_ Thranduil narrows his eyes at the dwarf standing before him. He lets Thorin's voice wash over him before descending, taking advantage of his height.

He collides solidly with Thorin's chest and his face buries itself into his surprisingly soft hair. It smells like hair spray and something else, lingering beneath it. He tries to lift his head, then lets it thud down to Richard's shoulder with a wince. "Fuck," he mumbles, "my crown seems to be stuck?"

It's just as well that he can't look up, because he can hear the snickering coming from the direction of the cameras, and he feels mortified enough as it is. Someone from hair and makeup starts working on untangling his crown from Thorin's hair, and Lee does his best not to fidget. He notices the shoulder beneath his forehead is shaking, though. Richard must be furious.

"There, you're free to go," Tami tells him, and he can hear the suppressed laughter in her voice. But he shoots her a grateful smile anyway and walks away with as much dignity as he can muster.

His tentative composure only lasts for a few moments, because right after Peter shouts action, a different voice yells, "Choo choo, motherfucker!" and Lee obligingly slides on the ground. He manages to stop himself this time, arms flailing comically as he struggles to regain his balance. Martin hoots from somewhere on the sidelines and Lee shoots him a glare, because of course it would be Martin. It only makes Martin laugh though, and it appears to be contagious, because many more join in. 

It is rather difficult to drag Thranduil out again after that. But Peter doesn't rush him, and once the king has returned Lee turns to face Thorin.

 _Just let me get one good take,_ he pleads with the floor as he begins to move.

Luck is not on his side, and when he stumbles into Thorin in such a way that their lips connect squarely, the whole set falls silent.

Lee is frozen for a moment, mind blissfully blank. But then he rips himself away from Richard's (soft, delicious, perfect, no stop that) mouth. His face feels hot, a sure sign that he must be turning some interesting colors.

"Oh God, Richard," he chokes out, "I am so sorry!"

Richard seems to be dealing with it slightly better. If his cheeks are flushed, Lee can't tell from the prosthetics anyway, and he sounds every inch the seasoned professional when he says, "No harm done."

Not that it makes Lee feel any better. He stares nervously at Richard's collarbone, afraid to look up and find ridicule in the older man's eyes. "It's this damn floor, it's way too smooth. I swear I didn't mean to--"

Richard's arm moves and Lee notices it's shaking again. He does look up then -- he's not a coward, after all, and Richard has every right to be livid. But Richard doesn't seem angry. His hand is hiding his (eminently kissable) mouth from sight, but there is mirth in those blue eyes, and Lee suddenly realizes that he's _laughing_.

His look turns faintly apologetic when he meets Lee's eyes. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, "I swear I'm not mocking you, it's just--" But then a giggle escapes him before he can muffle it with his hand, and Lee is rooted to the spot, utterly charmed. He's never seen Richard laugh before, and he finds that he likes the sound of it very much. The fact that he's the reason for that uninhibited expression of joy, inadvertent though it may be, makes him feel a rush of warmth. He smiles helplessly back.

Peter's hand on his shoulder reminds him that he has a job to do, and he turns with an apology on his lips. But Peter is grinning. "Alright guys, how about we finish this scene tomorrow? I'll have Emily do something to your boots so you stop skating around the set. Can't have you giving Richard even more bruises."

The reminder makes him wince, but Richard just chuckles. "I don't think there will be any. The fat suit offers enough protection, I barely felt anything."

 _Oh, but I did,_ Lee thinks, remembering the feel of Richard's arms. Even the prosthetics couldn't hide their strength.

Nothing hiding his pliant, warm lips either.

He completely loses the thread of the conversation, but manages to mumble his goodbyes as Peter leaves them with a wave. He feels restless, unspent energy thrumming beneath his skin. He wishes for a hike, or scotch, or really good sex, and then he has to forcefully push images of Richard's long fingers trailing over his naked ribs from his mind before he does something truly mortifying like kiss the man. Again.

Richard is looking at him with a little half-smile, and Lee chews on his lower lip before tentatively venturing, "Do you have any plans for tonight?"

"Not particularly," is the reply, and the fact that Richard looks curious and not wary encourages Lee to finish his half-formed thought.

"Would you mind running the scene with me a few times? I just," his hand rubs at the back of his neck, "feel really stupid about holding everything up and wasting time, and I'd really like to have the scene down perfectly before tomorrow so we don't have to do that many takes."

"Of course not." Lee lets out an exaggerated sigh of relief that makes the corners of Richard's eyes crinkle. "You could come by my hotel room in a few hours?"

 _Richard's room. With Richard's bed._ No, he won't go there. Instead, he smiles gratefully and lets Susan drag him off to makeup.

* * *

He feels strangely nervous when he knocks on Richard's door. It opens quickly and Richard welcomes him in with a smile. He's holding a glass of red wine, half full, and Lee can see an open book lying on the coffee table. It makes him feel guilty for taking up more of the man's precious free time -- they don't get much of it as it is. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" he asks.

"Of course." Richard holds up a bottle. "Wine?" Lee shrugs and nods, watches as Richard pours him a glass. It's not his beverage of choice, but even he has to admit that Richard's taste is excellent. Richard sets his own glass aside to put away his book, and Lee peeks curiously at the cover. _The Hobbit_. His eyebrows shoot up. _Does he ever stop working?_

When Richard straightens, something about his posture sends chills down Lee's spine. Blue eyes stare coolly at him, but it's not Richard looking out from them. He puts his wine on the table and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, Thorin is before him, and Thranduil reacts to his presence as he always does; with scorn and impassioned distaste.

They run through the scene smoothly without anyone stumbling or falling (Lee sends up a small prayer of thanks for carpeted floors) and it's surprisingly easy, even without the aid of costumes. There is nobody there to yell "Cut!" but Richard doesn't seem to need it. Thorin blinks and a second later, Richard smiles at him. "That went well," he says.

Lee is inclined to agree, but he's not Peter, and if there's one thing he's learned on set, it's that the first time is always just a trial run regardless of the rolling cameras. "Peter usually likes to see a few different takes. Maybe we should try a few more times, see if we can make it better?"

Richard is as much a perfectionist as he is, and they run their lines for the next half hour. Lee changes subtle things -- his pacing, his intonation, whether he smirks or snarls or smiles haughtily, and for the rest he watches Richard and just reacts. It's exhilarating, and Lee gives himself over fully, letting Thranduil's emotions move him.

"And where were you, when we most needed your aid?" Thorin snarls, glaring hatefully. "You abandoned us to Smaug's fire without a second thought!"

Eyes blazing, Thranduil advances on Thorin, relishing the dwarf's flinch. "Do not speak to me of dragon fire! _I_ know its wrath and ruin. _I_ have faced the great serpents of the north." He draws back slowly, and Thorin's eyes finally come up to meet his, fiercely defiant.

This is the one, Lee knows. This is the performance Peter will like, the one that will make it into the final cut. He beams at Richard, wanting to share the thrill of a job well done. Richard's hand sneaks out and grabs the front of his shirt, pulling gently, and Lee finds himself falling into his second kiss of the day.

Their lips move languidly against each other. Richard's are the first to part, his tongue delving out to lick at Lee's mouth. Lee opens willingly to the prodding and it slips inside, brushing and tangling with his tongue. His hands come up involuntarily to frame Richard's face as their kiss deepens. Richard's hand slides up and around his neck, tugging him closer, and Lee willingly follows.

The need for air is what drives them to part eventually. Their unsteady breaths keep pace with the beating of Lee's heart, and he takes a moment just to look. Richard's cheeks are flushed, his eyes are closed and his lips are red, swollen, devoured.

"If I don't leave now," he finds himself saying, "we are going to end up naked on that bed within ten minutes." Richard's eyes fly open, and the raw hunger in them almost makes Lee forget his good intentions. He dips his head for another heated kiss, but doesn't let it last as long. "Not that I don't want to," he murmurs against Richard's mouth, "but I think we can do better than that."

"All right," Richard says, but that doesn't stop his hand from pulling on Lee's hair and snatching another kiss. Lee's mind occupies itself with cataloguing all the different sounds spilling from Richard's lips, and by the time it's done, Lee finds his fingers on the buttons of Richard's black shirt, the top two already undone. He pauses, stares real hard at the sliver of skin peeking from between the collar, then makes himself take a (small) step back.

"Okay," he breathes, "what are you doing tomorrow night?"

Richard quirks a smile. "Unwinding with a glass of wine?"

"Do you feel like going out?" His heart is beating fast, and he feels strangely nervous, which is ridiculous. "Have some dinner and catch a movie, maybe?"

The grin that spreads across Richard's face makes him look young, almost unlike the serious actor Lee has come to know. His expression seems to suggest that Lee is ridiculous and cliché (and maybe a little adorable, he hopes), but what he says is, "What movie?"

Lee bites on his lower lip, regards Richard from beneath his lashes. "Promise you won't mock me?" Richard nods, but Lee can see the telltale twitch of his mouth. "I've actually been dying to see Prometheus," he confesses. "Alien came out the year I was born, and my mom claims it's the first movie I ever saw. Not that I remember, of course," and Richard chuckles at that, "but I guess the series has a special place in my heart. But if you hate those sort of movies," he hastens to add, "we can catch something else."

"Prometheus is fine," Richard assures, and Lee grins. "Dinner after?" Lee nods, and Richard's smile turns sly. "And after that?"

The half-smirk and elegant arch of his eyebrow make Lee's breath catch. "We'll just have to see how the evening goes," he murmurs, voice husky.

Richard licks his lips. "I don't think I'll be disappointed."

_God, I hope not._

* * *

When they return to the hotel after the movie (satisfying and horrifying in equal measures) and a really good Thai dinner (some of it was too spicy for his tastes, but Richard's face looked almost orgasmic, and that alone was worth it), Lee honestly doesn't intend to do more than deliver a peck (or twelve) to Richard's lips and go to his own room, possibly sneak in a furious wank before bed. But Richard pauses with his hand on the open door and sends him a look from beneath half-lidded eyes. "Do you want to come in for a nightcap?"

Wordlessly, Lee precedes Richard into the room. The door snicks closed behind him, and a tug on his tie forces him to turn around. With a tiny smirk, Richard continues to reel him in. "You seem to have a fascination with pulling on my clothes."

"Only because you keep standing too far away." He doesn't even give Lee the chance to respond, capturing his lips in a kiss that quickly turns heated. Always liking to give as good as he gets, Lee maneuvers Richard backwards until his back hits the door. He breaks the kiss, places his hand against the wood next to Richard's face. He isn't that much taller, but he has enough inches on the other man to have to lower his head when he licks a stripe up Richard's neck. Richard shivers slightly, and Lee smiles against his skin. His right hand reaches around to Richard's nape and he lets himself fall into another kiss.

As reserved as Richard usually is, Lee never expected him to be this vocal. He gasps when Lee's breath washes over the shell of his ear, moans when Lee bites gently on his lower lip, and each sound in that deep voice sends heat straight to his groin. He wrenches himself away with difficulty, observing Richard as he tries to remember how to breathe. Seeing him sagging against the door pleases him, but still. "So, about that nightcap?"

Richard looks at him incredulously, and Lee has to grin when two hands reach for him and tug him flush against the warm, lean form. "Tease," Richard growls against his lips, and swallows Lee's subsequent laugh. Fingers nimbly undo his tie even as Richard's mouth makes a good attempt to completely wreck what remains of his composure. Lee lets his hands trail over Richard's side, his back, slipping beneath the suit jacket to tug the shirt loose. He gets distracted when the other man's hands smooth over his bare collarbone, and wonders inanely where his tie went. But then he remembers he has catching up to do, and curls his hands around Richard's bare waist, slowly sliding them up. It earns him a soft gasp, and when he looks, Richard's pupils are blown wide. 

With a grin that he's sure looks smug and self-satisfied, he strokes along Richard's shoulder blades, mimicking the massage patterns he'd learned once upon a time. When his fingers hit the edge of Richard's belt he doesn't hesitate, and slips them past the obstruction.

"Jesus," he hisses as his arousal reaches new heights. Richard is watching him with a smirk, and pushes his hips into the wall, pressing the swell of his bare ass into Lee's fingers. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you," Lee marvels, and Richard's smile is secretive and private. Experimentally, he squeezes, and Richard's groan reverberates through their bodies. He can feel Richard's cock jumping against him and presses closer. "So," he breathes as his fingers explore and Richard's breath comes out in stuttered gasps, "do you always go sans underwear? Because I have to admit, I'll be kind of jealous if you tell me the wardrobe people found out before I did."

Richard's sharp laugh turns into a drawn out moan when Lee slides a finger into his cleft. "Don't be daft," he breathes. His bright blue eyes are dark with desire, but his voice is soft, shy, endearing. Lee presses a soft kiss to his lips.

The belt is starting to be a serious problem, and Lee removes his hands from Richard's pants with a pang of regret that the other man seems to share. But when he starts on the belt, Richard makes a pleased sound at the back of his throat that Lee takes as approval. Although really, Lee reflects when Richard bows his head to suck a nipple into his mouth, if he wants him to proceed, he really does need to stop being such a distracting tease. His eyes slide shut and his hand presses at the back of Richard's shorn head. His moan turns into a sharp hiss when teeth come into play, and his cock throbs where it's trapped in his pants. His briefs feel uncomfortable, constricting, and he fumbles at his own belt.

His nipple is deserted when his belt clatters to the floor. Richard looks up at him and licks his lips, and Lee's patience snaps. He foregoes the buckle and palms Richard's cock through his pants. Richard hisses sharply, tilting his head wantonly back. The fabric provides additional friction and Lee makes good use of it, unevenly rubbing his fingers alongside the hard shaft, tugging the material along. "God, Lee," Richard whimpers, his hips thrusting into Lee's grip. The angle is slightly awkward but that doesn't seem to matter to Richard. Lee pulls and squeezes, fingers loose one second and tight the next, and watches Richard come apart before him. He drags his nails along the side, relishing Richard's near sob. A wet spot appears at the head and Lee speeds up his strokes, eyes intent on Richard's face.

Richard lets out a shuddering gasp when he comes -- eyes closed, head tilted back, color high on his cheeks, lips swollen and red and obscene -- he is beautiful, and Lee watches, mesmerized. The dampness spreads beneath his hand as he rubs Richard through the aftershocks, feeling his cock soften gradually. His own aches demandingly, and he tries to will it to hold on. 

Blue eyes finally open, and Richard smiles at him, pliant and sated, as he tilts his head up for a kiss that Lee willingly delivers. One kiss flows into another, Richard's lips moving languidly against his. When large hands finally reach for the front of his pants, Lee is close to whimpering. Relief is instant when his cock is finally released from the confines of the zipper. But Richard draws back then, and Lee stares at him in confusion.

"Couch," Richard murmurs, voice husky, and Lee follows the tug on his hand. He is pushed onto the couch and his cock jumps when Richard kneels before him. At his urging, Lee spreads his legs, and Richard's fingers trail teasingly along his inner thighs for a moment before tugging down his briefs and baring his cock. A hand curls around the base and Lee's hips buck helplessly. Richard grins wickedly, and for a moment Lee worries he intends to draw it out. But the time of teasing seems to truly be over. Richard's eyes remain intent on his as he lowers his head and engulfs the head of Lee's cock in his mouth.

"Yes," Lee hisses, holding his hips steady with an iron will. He watches as Richard slowly takes in more and more of him, heart beating loudly in his chest. Richard's tongue rubs firmly against the underside of his cock and when he hollows his cheeks, Lee can't help bucking into that wet heat with an impassioned cry. Richard hums around his cock, eyes gleaming as he lifts up a little until just the head is captured between his lips. His tongue laps teasingly at the slit, spreading the precome and driving Lee nearly mad. When he slides down again Lee can't stop himself from grabbing Richard's head. _I won't thrust_ , he tells himself, _I'll just hold on_. But Richard seems to have different ideas, and when his teeth gently graze the underside Lee forgets all his good intentions and fucks into that talented mouth. Richard moans, sending vibrations through his overstimulated cock, and slides a hand encouragingly to Lee's hip. Panting, Lee pushes down on Richard's head as he thrusts his hips up, careful at first and then not careful at all when he stops being able to think. _Close, so close,_ and when Richard moans again, he lets it all go.

He doesn't know how much time passes before Richard collapses next to him on the couch. Their breathing is still labored, and Richard looks tired. But there's a pleased little smile on his lips, and Lee finds the strength to push himself up far enough to kiss it. He can taste himself on Richard's tongue and he chases the musky flavor. He lets his head drop to Richard's shoulder after, and Richard's long fingers come up to brush through his hair. 

"You ruined all my well-intentioned plans," he murmurs, soothed by the gentle touches. 

Richard laughs softly. "You had plans?" he asks, and if Lee was less tired he would have jabbed an elbow into his side for the amused tone.

"'Course I did." He tilts his head enough to rub his nose behind Richard's ear. "I was going to wait until at least the third date before jumping your bones."

"Such a gentleman," comes the teasing rumble, and Lee snorts.

"Not really. Just trying to impress you." The fingers on his scalp still, and he looks up to find Richard gazing at him intently.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asks, but it sounds curious rather than accusing, and Lee lowers his eyes.

"I've sort of," he hesitates, fingers toying with a button, "had a crush on you for a while. And I didn't want to blow my one chance."

"Since when?"

Lee flushes. "Since I saw North & South?"

The laugh bubbles up slowly, and Lee sits up straight and watches in bemusement as Richard tries (and fails) to stop it. When he finally gets it toned down to a grin, he says, "Well, now I feel decidedly less awkward about admitting that you caught my interest when I watched The Fall."

They share a wry grin. "So where does that leave us, then?" Richard asks quietly. Lee can see faint frown lines even though Richard is smiling. He smooths them away with his thumb, lets his hand drop then to rest over Richard's chest. 

Lee thinks about all the pieces of Richard that he has collected over the past few days -- the bright laugh, the mischievous sense of humor, the sharp wit, the sensuality, the hidden kinky side that he can't wait to explore. He wonders how many more facets he can discover if given enough time, and if Richard will shine even brighter when he finally sees the complete picture.

"Well," he murmurs finally, "I do have at least five more dates planned." He raises his eyebrow inquiringly and feels it when Richard's heart starts to beat faster, holding pace with his. He leans closer, never moving his hand, and brushes a soft kiss over Richard's lips. "I'm not really looking for anything casual," he breathes before sitting back to wait.

When Richard pushes him backwards and straddles his hips, he has his answer.


End file.
